


I'll Do Something

by rockmusicplays



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Fix-It, Fluff, Gen, Platontic Cuddling, Post-Episode: s03e18 Riddled
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 04:13:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockmusicplays/pseuds/rockmusicplays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the pack saves Stiles from the Nogitsune, its up to Scott to make sure it wasn't in vain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Do Something

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd.
> 
> This episode broke my heart in to a billion tiny pieces, so I had to do something to make it hurt a little less.

To say that the past week had been chaotic would be an understatement. Terrifying didn't quite do it justice either. All of the other horrific shit the pack and their friends had been through since the night Scott was bitten combined couldn't touch what the Nogitsune had put them through in only six days.

It had taken every last resource and skill available to them to finally track Stiles down, drag him to the Hale house and subdue him while they tried to come up with a plan, losing Ethan and Aiden in the process. They finally caught a break when Peter decided to interfere in typical Peter fashion and made killing the Nogitsune the obvious choice instead of a last resort.

And just like that, the nightmare was over. The Oni melted back into the darkness. Lydia was left in blissful silence. Stiles was alone inside his own head.

Once Peter's body had been disposed of, the pack found themselves convening in Derek's loft. Lydia and Scott had appointed themselves in charge of first aid, dealing with the ugly gash on Kira's leg and Isaac's badly broken arm. Allison guided Lydia through stitching up Kira from her spot on the couch. She'd cracked a few ribs helping take Stiles down the day before, and couldn't move well enough to do much of anything.

Scott had to re-break the bones in Isaac's arm twice before they finally set properly. The pair of them sat side by side on the floor, Scott leaching away enough of Isaac's pain for him to relax and heal before helping Derek change the bandages on his burns. The older werewolf had caught a live wire across the back, leaving him blistered and raw along his shoulders and down his left side. He was healing, but healing slowly.

Stiles had taken refuge on Derek's bed. While he had no memory of what had gone down while the Nogitsune was at the controls, he bore the physical marks of its rampage. He was bruised and aching and completely exhausted. He lay curled on his side on top of the covers, picking at a loose thread in the comforter and fighting the urge to pass out.

The supernatural part of his troubles had been dealt with, but he was still far from okay. The first thing Stiles had done after collapsing onto the bed was call his dad. He knew about the test results. He knew it was a death sentence. Out of the frying pan and into the fire. It was actually kind of hilarious. After everything, it was his own brain that was going to end up killing him.

The sheriff had wanted his son home immediately, but Stiles wasn't ready to face him. Not until he'd had a chance to process both his diagnosis and the havoc the Nogitsune had used him to create. Aiden's blood was still caked under his fingernails.

Stiles hated the twins for what they'd done to Boyd, and what his death had done to Derek. And he hated that they'd never had to answer for it. Dying to protect Scott didn't change that. But knowing that he'd killed someone with his bare hands was a little more than he could take right now. The panic attack that had been building since he woke up on the floor of the Hale house finally hit him. Hauling himself to his feet, Stiles made for the bathroom. Allison called after him, but the words didn't register.

Locking the door behind him, Stiles cranked the shower as hot as it would go and stripped down. When his legs threatened to give out, he sat in the tub and let the scalding water pound against his back until the pressure in his chest eased enough for him to breathe, only to sob himself back to the point of hyperventilating.

The hot water had all but run out by the time Stiles was calm enough to stand and actually wash himself. He stumbled out of the shower, dripping water everywhere as he retrieved a face cloth from the cabinet by the door that served as Derek's linen closet. Stiles scrubbed until he felt something resembling human again, until his skin was red and raw.

Getting toweled off and dressed was an ordeal. His fingers were numb and stiff from the icy water, and he was still lightheaded from the panic attack. Deciding it wasn't worth the effort required to put his socks on, he abandoned them on the floor beside the toilet.

When Stiles finally came back downstairs, he found his spot had been taken by the entire pack. Scott extracted himself from what could only be described as a puppy pile and motioned for Stiles to follow him. Barefoot and shivering, Stiles pulled his hoodie tighter around himself and eyed the bed longingly as Scott brushed past him.

"How are you feeling?" Scott asked, leading Stiles back up the spiral staircase.

"Like I fucked up half the city and haven't slept in a week." Scott frowned, pushing open the door to what he assumed had been either Cora or Isaac's room at some point.

"Right. Dumb question." Stiles sat on the edge of the bare twin mattress and patted the space beside him. Scott flopped down, knocking his shoulder against Stiles' and giving him a tired smile. Stiles returned the gesture, leaning against Scott to keep himself upright.

"What's on your mind, buddy?"

Scott stared at the floor for a long, uncomfortable moment. When he finally spoke, Stiles could hear the tears in his voice. "Do you remember what we talked about before you disappeared from the hospital? Before your MRI?"

Stiles let out a shaky breath. The last thing he felt like doing right now was having this conversation. When Stiles didn't reply, Scott nudged his shoulder.

"Your mom told you, huh?" Stiles took Scott's hiccupping sob as confirmation. "Does anyone else know?"

"Everyone," Scott said, voice trembling. "I'm sorry, Stiles. I had to. They needed to know what we were dealing with. That it wasn't just the Nogitsune messing with your head."

"Its okay. You did the right thing." That explained a lot of what happened after Peter died. Again. Particularly the way Kira kept looking at him like he was about to keel over, and why Lydia refused to meet his eyes. And why Derek was being so nice to him, all soft touches and concern.

"I meant what I said, Stiles. I'll fix you if you'll let me."

"Scott..."

"Just listen for a second, okay? It won't be like it was for me. You won't be alone. You have me. And Isaac and Derek. We'll look out for you."

"What if the bite kills me?" It was a stupid thing to worry about considering what he was facing, but after seeing what the bite had done to Gerard Argent and hearing about Paige, Stiles felt he had every right to be wary.

"It won't," Scott insisted, sounding much more confident than he looked.

"You don't know that, Scott."

"Stiles, it'll work. It..." Scott trailed off, thumbing away tears and trying to compose himself. "It has to. I can't lose you, Stiles. You're my brother, and I need you."

The pleading look Scott gave him was enough to make Stiles cave right then and there. But he really didn't want to deal with this tonight. He needed time. "Can I sleep on it?"

"Yeah, sure. Of course," Scott replied. "Derek says we should wait a few days, anyway. Until you're a little less... fragile." The wolf made a helpless sort of you-know-what-I-mean gesture and Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Wait a second. You talked to Derek about me?" It came out much harsher than Stiles had intended, but the idea of Scott and Derek having a conversation about him, a conversation about his well being, was incredibly weird.

"Well, yeah." Scott looked genuinely confused. "I've never 'made' a Beta before. Derek's made four. He's the closest thing to an expert I've got."

"Fair enough." Stiles yawned, dropping his head into his hands.

"You should get some sleep. You look like crap." Stiles grunted, lifting his face just enough to glare at Scott from between his fingers. Scott huffed out a laugh. "Everyone is crashing here tonight."

"I noticed. A little pack bonding?"

"Something like that."

And that was how Stiles found himself tucked between Derek and Scott, playing little spoon to a surprisingly cuddly Derek who kept insisting it was the only comfortable way for him to sleep while his back was healing and Allison was hogging all the extra pillows. Kira fell asleep almost instantly with her head on Scott's chest and her back pressed against Lydia's to keep herself from rolling onto her injured thigh.

While it made sense for Allison to be propped up on the outside edge of the mattress, Stiles still wasn't sure how Isaac had ended up with his head in Allison's lap and Lydia half on top of him with her head on his shoulder. Stiles couldn't quite work himself up to a suitable level of annoyance at Isaac's situation. Not when Derek was ridiculously warm and actually seemed happy to be this close to him.

The whole arrangement should have been majorly awkward, but Stiles found himself relaxing into Derek's loose embrace. His friends were here, alive and mostly in one piece. His dad was safe. At least for tonight, there was no imminent danger. For the first time since coming out of the ice bath, Stiles wasn't afraid to close his eyes. So he did, and he slept soundly.

~ ~ ~

Stiles woke up to a face full of Scott's hair and Derek draped across his back. Apparently he'd rolled onto his stomach at some point during the night and Derek had followed suit. Judging by the amount of sunlight pouring through the windows, it was late morning. Kira and Lydia were already up and around, making themselves at home in Derek's kitchen.

Kira was standing with her hip braced against the counter, trying to keep her weight off of her bad leg while she scrambled eggs in a large bowl. Lydia was frying bacon, spatula in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. Stiles pressed his face into the mattress to stifle a yawn and went about trying to get out from under Derek. It proved to be a difficult task since the wolf was both stupidly heavy and very much still sound asleep.

Despite his best attempt to not disturb Scott, Stiles ended up waking all three of the werewolves and Allison when he finally managed to sit up and burst out laughing. Isaac had migrated into the space the girls had vacated, and was snuggled up with his Alpha.

The two wolves startled awake, which only made Stiles laugh harder. Allison was staring blearily at them from her mound of pillows. Derek muttered something rude from the general vicinity of Stiles' hip and pulled the covers over his head.

Isaac was slowly turning pink with embarrassment. Scott ruffled his hair good naturedly and climbed over Stiles and Derek's legs in pursuit of coffee. Isaac helped Allison to her feet, and they both trailed after Scott.

Stiles flopped on to his back. He took a moment to revel in the awesomeness of having woken up on his own, without any screaming or flailing, and feeling like he'd actually slept. He hadn't felt this good in forever. It was almost enough to make him forget why he normally felt like shit in the morning.

Before his good mood had a chance to deflate completely, distraction came in the form of Derek emerging from his cocoon of blankets. The combination of serious bed head and the crease marks on his cheek from where it had been pressed against Stiles' t-shirt was nothing short of adorable.

Derek sat up slowly, rolling his shoulders and wincing when the movement pulled at his still tender skin.

"Shouldn't those have healed by now?" Stiles asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

"The shock alone would have killed a human. I'm lucky all I got was fourth degree burns."

"Oh my god."

Derek shrugged. "It's not that bad. Another day and I'll be good as new." Kicking the blankets aside, Derek climbed out of bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." That got him a raised eyebrow, but for once it was the truth. He was rested and calm. It was as close to okay as he was going to get. "Seriously. I'm good."

Derek's jaw tightened, like he wanted to say something but wasn't sure how to make it come out right. He made a small, frustrated sound and settled for leaning down and squeezing the back of Stiles' neck. Wordless comfort and reassurance.

Stiles did his best to muster up a smile in return, but the sudden ache in his chest was making that very difficult. He didn't know what to do with this version of Derek that seemed more likely to hug him than slam him against the nearest wall. This version that was looking at him with something eerily like affection.

He was saved from examining that any further by the shrill sound of his phone ringing. His reprieve was over. It was time to go home.

~ ~ ~

Sheriff Stilinski had been working almost non-stop since the night Stiles disappeared from the hospital. Until he'd tied up as many loose ends as he could given the supernatural element to what had gone down, Melissa, Scott and Isaac were staying at the Stilinski house. Despite Stiles protesting loudly and often that he didn't need a babysitter, the sheriff insisted he didn't want Stiles to be left alone. Not while he was sick. It was too soon to tell how much of Stiles' erratic behavior had been because of the Nogitsune, and how much was a result of the dementia.

This meant that Melissa was staying in the guest room, and Scott and Isaac were camped out on Stiles' bedroom floor. Scott was determined to pretend things were a lot less fucked up than they actually were, acting like this was just another one of the prolonged sleepovers they used to have when they were younger. This mostly involved playing a lot of XBOX, and Stiles forcing Scott to watch the entire original Star Wars trilogy.

Four days of purposely avoiding the subject of Stiles' health appeared to be his limit. Both the sheriff and Melissa were working graveyard that night, making it the first chance the boys had to talk about Scott's offer. While his odds were still good, Stiles knew he wasn't an ideal candidate for the bite. But given the choice between a slow, agonizing death and a quick, agonizing death, Stiles was inclined to just get it over with.

The three teenagers were getting ready to turn in for the night. Stiles waited until Isaac was in the bathroom to broach the subject.

"Just get it over with," Stiles sighed, holding his arm out in Scott's direction. There was no discussion needed. They both knew the risks, and that this was Stiles' only chance.

"This is gonna hurt. A lot," Scott said, taking hold of his best friend's wrist. Stiles nodded, turning his head away when Scott began to shift, his other hand gripping Stiles' elbow to hold his arm steady.

"Fuck!" Stiles hissed. Pain exploded along his arm from his shoulder right down to the tips of his fingers. Stiles cradled the wounded limb against his chest, shooting a glare at Scott. "I think you hit bone, you jackass!" Scott gave him a sheepish look, eyes fading from red to their usual brown as he wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Sorry. It's not like I've had a of of experience with biting people." Scott made a face, ducking across the hall and pounding on the bathroom door. "Isaac! I need my toothbrush!"

"And the first aid kit!" Stiles added, dropping into his desk chair and trying to hold his arm at the right angle to keep from bleeding on the carpet.

"What happened?" Isaac asked around a mouthful of toothpaste. Scott pushed past him, spitting more blood into the sink and gagging.

"Scott tried to tear my arm off," Stiles groaned.

"I said I was sorry," Scott muttered, stepping away from the sink to let Isaac finish up. Stiles leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes. He could hear water running, and someone rummaging around in the cabinet under the sink. The water shut off, and Isaac was standing in front of him, setting the first aid kit on the desk and handing Stiles a damp towel.

"Thanks." Isaac nodded, taking gauze and antiseptic out of the kit. Stiles wiped as much of the blood off of his arm as he could with the towel before letting Isaac clean and bandage the bite mark. By the time he was done, the pain had faded to a steady throb.

"There. That should do it."

"Thanks, Isaac." 

"No problem." Isaac gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze and smiled before packing the kit up. Stiles and Isaac had never gotten along particularly well in the past, but he had to admit that when the Beta wasn't being massively annoying he was actually a pretty okay guy. Scott loved and trusted him, which was a good enough endorsement for Stiles to decide to make an effort to get along with him better in the future.

Provided he actually had a future.

Isaac left to put the first aid kit back, and Stiles dug through his dresser for a clean shirt and pajama pants. He didn't much feel like sleeping in clothes he'd bled all over.

"That was so gross. I'm never doing that again." Scott flung himself face down on to Stiles' bed, grimacing.

"Are you suggesting I don't taste good?" Stiles demanded teasingly, tugging his shirt over his head and flinging it in the general direction of his hamper.

"If you taste anything like you smell, I'd be gagging too," Isaac said dryly. Scott let out a peal of laughter, and Isaac grinned.

"You know what? Fuck both of you," Stiles groused, kicking off his sweat pants and trying his best to stare both wolves down while not falling over. He was mostly successful. This of course only made Scott laugh harder. Fully dressed again, Stiles stomped over to the bed and clamored over Scott, careful to not jostle his arm any more than was absolutely necessary. "Shove over," he said, nudging the still laughing wolf with his foot.

Scott rolled onto his side, giving Stiles enough room to get under the covers. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm going to sleep."

"Right now?" Isaac asked.

"It's late, and I'm tired, so yeah. Right now," Stiles replied. The wolves exchanged a look, and Stiles sighed. "What?"

"Are you sure you don't want to play some more Call of Duty or something for a while?" Scott suggested. "Or we could watch that movie you were talking about this morning. Uh, Mortal Kombat?"

"I still can't believe neither of you have seen Mortal Kombat," Stiles huffed. "It's a classic. But no, I don't want to do either of those things. Its two in the morning, and I want to sleep."

Stiles was trying very hard not to think about what would happen if his body rejected the bite. He knew the pair of them would be watching him like a hawk all night, and he'd much rather be unconscious for that display of awkward instead of trying to ignore the looks they were giving him while they pretended to watch a movie.

"Okay," Scott agreed. "Sleep it is." Isaac turned out the lights, and Stiles could feel Scott moving around next to him in the dark. It wasn't until he felt something brush against his calf that he realized Scott was under the blankets with him.

"Uh, Scott?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

"Sleeping."

"Here?"

"Yup."

"Why?" The mattress creaked, and then Scott was prodding at him to move closer to the wall. "Okay, seriously? This is completely not necessary. At all. Not even a little!" Stiles snapped.

"Shut up and go to sleep," Isaac shot back, settling in next to Scott. "And shove over. I'm practically falling off the edge here."

"You know what would solve that? _Getting out of my bed._ " The only response was Scott elbowing him lightly in the ribs. Cursing the both of them under his breath, Stiles rolled over to face the wall, wiggling as far over as he could get. "Better?"

"Much," the Beta replied.

At least Derek's bed was a king. Three teenage boys on a double mattress was not nearly as comfortable. It was going to be a very, very long night.

~ ~ ~

The fact that Stiles had absolutely no reaction to waking up so tangled up in blankets and werewolf limbs that he could barely move was a pretty solid indication of just how fucked up his life was these days. In fact, Stiles was mildly impressed with configuration they'd managed to get themselves in. At some point Stiles had ended up in the middle, using Scott as a pillow. Someone's leg was hooked around his, and there was an arm around his waist.

Muffled laughter from somewhere behind him alerted him to what had woke him up in the first place; the sound of his bedroom door opening. Stiles peered over his shoulder to find his dad leaning against the door jam, looking exhausted and very amused.

"Hey, Dad." Stiles did his best to sound casual. _Nothing to see here..._ "How was work?"

"Long. Dare I ask how your night went?"

Stiles groaned, trying to free himself from the werewolves in his bed. He let out a yelp when Scott rolled over, pinning his wounded arm against the mattress. Now wide awake, Scott scrambled into a sitting position, his eyes flashing red. Judging by the low growl behind him, Isaac had the same reaction.

"Easy, guys. I'm fine. I think." Stiles gingerly peeled a corner of the gauze back, revealing the bite. It looked pretty much the same as it had the night before. "Well, no black ooze. That has to be a good sign, right?"

"What the hell is that?" Sheriff Stilinski knelt on the end of the bed, reaching for his son's arm.

"That would be a wolf bite," Stiles informed him, removing the gauze completely.

"A wolf bite?"

"Well, technically it's an Alpha bite," his son replied.

"You bit Stiles?" the sheriff asked Scott, clearly agitated. "Some of these marks are really deep. They need stitches."

"I didn't mean to bite him that hard," Scott said defensively. "It was an accident."

"If it worked, it'll heal on its own," Isaac added.

"Did it?" Stiles asked, looking to Scott for reassurance. He didn't feel any different, and the bite was still tender.

Scott studied the mark. "Well, like you said. No black ooze." He frowned, then leaned towards Stiles. "Don't be creeped out."

"Why would I be cre- Oh my god!" Scott was sniffing his neck. The sheriff made a choked off sound that Stiles strongly suspected was a laugh. Scott rubbed his nose, then proceeded to sniff Stiles again. He looked at Isaac and inclined his head. Isaac then proceeded to sniff him as well.

"Okay, seriously? Enough!" Stiles squawked, flailing his arms at the wolves. Both of whom were now staring at him with wide eyes. His heart was pounding. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. His father wasn't supposed to be here to see what came next. He should have been dead hours ago.

"It worked." Scott's voice was so quiet Stiles thought he'd only imagined hearing the words at first. But then both Scott and Isaac were grinning, and Stiles launched himself at Scott with enough force to send all three teens tumbling to the floor in a heap while the sheriff looked on in confusion.

"Only an Alpha's bite can turn someone," Sheriff Stilinski said suddenly.

"That's right." Stiles picked himself up from where he'd landed and sat next to his father on the bed.

"Scott bit you."

"Yup."

"So that means..."

"I'm a werewolf. Holy shit. I'm a werewolf," Stiles croaked, panicked. Next full moon, he would shift. He would have fangs and claws and really terrible sideburns and glowing eyes. "Scott, I'm a fucking werewolf!"

"It's a little late to be having second thoughts," Isaac pointed out.

"I'm not. It's just, y'know, I fell asleep human and woke up... not human."

"Stiles, if you're not human does that, ah, does that mean that you're not..." the sheriff trailed off, taking a deep breath and looking at Stiles with so much hope it made him want to cry.

"I'm not gonna die, Dad. Not like that. Not like her."

The sheriff pulled Stiles into a bone crushing embrace, which Stiles returned with enthusiasm and tears. Scott and Isaac tried to slip quietly out of the room to give them some privacy. Sheriff Stilinski caught hold of Scott's arm, wordlessly pulling him into the hug as well. If Scott was at all startled, he didn't let it show. He just tucked himself against the sheriff's side and squeezed both Stilinski men tight.

The commotion must have woke Melissa, because suddenly she was standing in the doorway with Isaac, face white with terror.

"What happened?"

"It's okay," Isaac assured her, waving a hand at the scene on the bed. "They're happy tears."

"Okay... What happened?" she repeated. Sheriff Stilinski released the death grip he had on the boys and scrubbed a hand over his face.

"Scott saved my son. That's what happened."

"Saved him?"

"Changed him," Isaac explained. "The bite is sort of a cure-all."

"It fixed my asthma and Erica's seizures," Scott added. "It cured Allison's grandfather's cancer, too. Even after I poisoned him with Mountain Ash."

"You poisoned Allison's grandfather?" Melissa scowled, crossing her arms. Scott cringed.

"He was a total psycho," Isaac offered in Scott's defense. "He deserved it." Scott and Stiles both nodded in agreement.

"The important thing is that if the bite can do all of that, it can stop my brain from shriveling up like a raisin," Stiles pointed out. That was enough to wipe the disapproval from Melissa's expression and start another round of hugging and crying. Isaac practically ran from the room to avoid getting swept up in it.

"Coward!" Stiles yelled after him. "Come back here and feel the love!"

~ ~ ~

"This is payback for the time I cuffed you to the radiator, isn't it?" Stiles whined, tugging on the length of chain looped around his waist.

"And the heart monitor," Scott confirmed, snapping the padlock into place. The pack was back at Derek's, helping secure Stiles to an iron ring bolted to the floor near the staircase.

"This is just as much for your own safety as it is the pack's," Derek told him. "And it's just for tonight. Next full moon, you'll have had enough practice to try and control the shift."

"The first full moon is intense. Trust me, you're better off just riding it out," Isaac added. Stiles slid down the wall until his ass hit the floor, turning his head to stare out the bank of windows. The sun was sinking fast, full darkness only minutes away.

As embarrassing as it was to be chained up like a dog, Stiles was secretly grateful. He'd only been a werewolf for eight days, and was still adjusting to his new abilities. The impending full moon had been making him restless and cranky all day, and he was not looking forward to what was about to happen.

Scott dropped into a crouch beside him, eyeing his new Beta carefully. Stiles kept his face carefully blank, but he knew Scott could hear his heart thumping painfully against his ribcage.

"How much time do I have?" Stiles asked, hating how shaky his voice sounded.

"Not much."

"You might want to back up little, then." Scott gave the chain a hard yank. Seemingly satisfied it would hold, he moved to stand with Derek and Isaac. Derek seemed calm enough, but the nervous energy rolling off of the younger wolves set Stiles on edge. "Do you have to hover like that?" he snapped. Scott and Isaac took a step back, but Derek stayed where he was, arms folded across his chest.

"Just relax, Stiles," Derek instructed. What was supposed to be _shut up, Derek_ came out as a snarl. Startled, Stiles whipped around to face the window. Night had fallen, and the effect was instantaneous. He was vaguely aware of Scott calling his name, but it was hard to hear anything over the blood pounding in his ears.

Panic turned to full blown terror. He caught sight of his claws digging into the floor on either side of him through his new wolf eyes and howled. The other wolves were shouting at each other, and suddenly Scott was there, flashing red irises at him in warning.

Stiles howled again, lunging at the Alpha wolf. Scott side stepped the attack, and Stiles crashed to the floor when the chain pulled taught. The second Stiles got his feet back under him, Scott charged, backing him against the wall with a roar the shook the windows.

Whimpering, Stiles curled in on himself, feeling the rage boiling through his veins ebb away. A hand closed over his arm, and he cautiously peered up at his friend. Scott had shifted back to human, but Stiles hadn't. He whimpered again, this time out of frustration rather than fear.

"It's okay, Stiles." He wasn't sure how long Scott spent kneeling beside him, rubbing his back and talking to him in a low, soothing voice. The words themselves didn't register, but the tone did. It was enough to keep Stiles docile until he finally fell asleep.

~ ~ ~

"This is just getting ridiculous," Stiles muttered. The chain was still in place, and he could feel the ring on the floor digging into his calf. Scott and Isaac were within arm's reach, stretched out on their stomachs with a couple of Derek's pillows.

"They're both idiots." Derek was sitting on the staircase, nursing a mug of coffee. "There are two beds and a sofa they could have used."

"Yeah, well, they clearly no longer grasp the concept of personal space," Stiles groused, shifting his leg into a more comfortable position.

"You'll get used to it."

"Don't tell me this is a wolf thing."

Derek shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. "Werewolves are tactile."

"Awesome." Stiles sat up, wincing when the chain clanked loudly against the floor and woke the rest of the pack. "Can you cut me loose? I need to pee."

Derek set his mug on the floor and went to retrieve the key from where it was stashed on the kitchen counter. Isaac yawned and stumbled towards the coffee maker. Scott slid back to lean against the wall, watching Derek pop the padlock open.

"So, how'd I do?" Stiles asked, helping Derek unwind the metal links.

"You only tried to kill me once, so I think you did okay."

Stiles snorted. "I owe you like, a dozen near-death experiences."

"And I still owe you for the fire extinguisher," Scott replied.

"Hey! You were gonna eat my face, dude! I had to do something!"

"You hit Scott with a fire extinguisher?" Derek looked mildly impressed.

"I sprayed him," Stiles clarified. "In the locker room after practice one day." Isaac apparently hadn't heard this story yet either, because he promptly choked on his coffee. Scott pouted, and Derek laughed. A real, genuine laugh that caught Stiles completely off guard.

Before Derek could catch him staring, Stiles scrambled to his feet and made a beeline for the stairs.

He lingered in the bathroom for a few extra minutes, his werewolf hearing picking up Isaac complaining to Derek about the lack of food in his fridge. Stiles was standing in front of the mirror, studying his reflection. He knew there were no outward signs that he was different, but he found himself looking for them anyway.

Biting his lip in concentration, he willed his eyes to change. The flash of gold only lasted for a second, but it was enough.

It made it real.

Never again would he have to worry about his mind or his body betraying him. About not being fast enough or strong enough to protect the people he loved. When Scott needed him he would be able to back his best friend up with more than a bat.

Derek told them that Beacon Hills and everyone in it was the pack's responsibility. Stiles would stand with them against whatever trouble found them next, and this time he would be ready.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a sort of sequel in mind for this story, so keep an eye out for that in the very near future.


End file.
